Ex Libris
by ALEO
Summary: Anything can be used as a weapon. Written for the September challenge at hurt don on LiveJournal. Three chapters. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**Numb3rs: Ex Libris **

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

_**Spoilers:**__ nil_

_**A/N:**__ Written for Clue Challenge #3, September 2009, at hurt_don on LiveJournal. Prompts: __**Who?**__ – Don. __**What? **__– Book. __**Where?**__ – Charlie's office._

**CHAPTER ONE**

Not for the first time Special Agent Don Eppes, currently stationed at the Los Angeles FBI Field Office, regretted his brother being so famously attached to his work. It was all well and good for a math professor to be published and have an article written about him in a well known magazine. It was even fine, on the face of it, to have it mentioned that he helped his older, less famous FBI agent brother solve his cases. Where it became a problem was when someone used that information in a way that neither Don nor his brother Charlie perhaps would prefer.

Given that, during this latest case Don had let it get out that Charlie was unable to help with the investigation. The fact that the suspect was on the CalSci faculty made the deception necessary. It had seemed to be working but unfortunately the suspect had still sought to use the connection for his own purpose.

Leaving Don in the situation he now found himself in. Another shake of the head and a pass of his hand over his face and he got himself together enough to finally make a move. With a bit of effort and a whole lot of caution he got himself up to a semi-seated position relying on Charlie's desk to support him in the slightly less than horizontal posture. The heavy book that had knocked him for a six was lying nearby, discarded now that it was no longer needed. The reason for that was all too obvious as he finally looked up to see exactly what he expected. The muzzle of his Glock was far too close for his liking, as if he could ever like having it pointed at him. That was not the way it was meant to work, he was the one that was supposed to be pointing the weapon at someone, most usually accompanied by a shouted _'Freeze, FBI'_. Something he was going to remedy just as soon as he figured out how to do that without getting himself or his brother shot.

Speaking of his brother, he now made out a voice calling for him in distress, the words finally penetrating the ringing in his ears. "Don! Don?"

"Don't move an inch!" A harsh voice interrupted, directed at Charlie still seated behind the desk.

"Yeah, yeah, Charlie." Don managed to answer his brother's question before he tried anything stupid. He continued to eye his gun as it remained aimed steadily in his direction. Clearly, and rightly so, his assailant considered him the greater threat of the brothers Eppes. He could accept that, better that the weapon was aimed at him, rather than the math professor. "I'm good." Understatement, but it would do for now even as his vision blurred before he blinked things back into focus.

"You know, don't you?" The man demanded. "He wouldn't tell me, but you know, right?"

Carefully feeling at the side of his head for the spot he'd been struck so effectively with the book Don remained silent as he thought his options over. He needed to figure out a way to resolve this quickly. His fingers found a swelling lump and resting his hand over it he continued to look up at the man in control. There was no time for recrimination but he couldn't help it, if only he'd been a little more silent on his approach to Charlie's office then this might never have happened. He would have recognised their suspect and it would have been him getting the drop, not the other way around.

They'd finally caught a break, some new information that seemed to firm Sean Morris as their most likely suspect in a round of thefts of classified material from CalSci. Thirty-four year old post-graduate Morris had been working in the biology, more specifically the micro-biology department for nearly six months, always receiving glowing reports and reviews. Then came the reported thefts of crucial data, data of the kind that could easily be used for terrorist activities. Hence, the local FBI was brought in to investigate. Don and his team were learning just how easily microbes could be modified to wreak havoc.

Everyone said Morris couldn't be the one responsible for the data thefts, despite the first theft occurring, rather coincidentally, a bare two months after his arrival. But they needed more than circumstantial evidence and it had been frustratingly difficult to track the thefts to specific dates and times before they could even attempt to determine who had the necessary access at those points. Today that had all changed, one of the computer techs at the Field Office had managed to find some code or other on one of the recovered pieces of data that not only showed when it was copied but from which terminal it had been downloaded. That led to some more checking and the suspects were narrowed to a very small field, Morris leading the running out of those three candidates.

The agent had immediately made his way to CalSci with the intention of giving his genius brother the critical information to plug into his expression, not equation, and confirm their suspicions. He'd still been visiting Charlie, making out that it was a different case the professor was helping them on. Unlike what the popular press and television would have everyone believe, they regularly worked on more than one file at a time.

Making his way along the hall towards his brother's new, very large and impressive office he'd been able to see the younger man seated at his desk long before he'd actually stepped from the hall. With the deserted halls during class time the agent had started talking as soon as he saw his brother.

"Charlie! Good, you're in." He'd started. "We got the data we need. Have you got a minute to-"

That had been as far as he'd made it, striding now a pace or two inside the office proper. He'd barely noted the slightly scared expression on his brother's face before the widening of his eyes gave insufficient warning. The wide brown eyes had flicked sideways as his mouth opened. Don never heard what Charlie had been about to say, he'd turned just in time to see something hurtling at his head, far too close for him to avoid. He hadn't even had the time to identify what it was before he was lying sprawled on his side on the carpeted floor. For the moment all he could see was bright lights and all he could hear was a roaring in his ears. Then he felt movement and all too late he felt the hand at his holster. Training kicked in and he shoved his right hand downwards, trying to reach the grip of his weapon and force it deeper into the holster to prevent it being taken. He managed to reach the holster but the Glock was already gone. Without conscious thought he tried to rise, but again, he was too slow. The backhanded blow to the side of his face had him breathing in carpet dust and prevented him from fighting back for the precious few moments it took for his attacker to move out of his reach and secure control. As he fought to recover his wits there was a slam then a click, the office door being closed and locked.

Again he started to rise as the man returned but he was unable to prevent the hand that twisted in his shirt collar, cutting off his air. Scrabbling at his throat in an automatic and unsuccessful effort to relieve the constriction he was dragged the last few yards across the room towards Charlie's desk before being dropped to the floor. Unable to break his fall in time he'd struck the front of the desk with the back of his head, adding to residual effects from the heavy book and the backhand. Now he was leaning back against the desk, unable for the moment to do more than simply face their suspect. Correct that, face the confirmed offender.

"I do now." He finally answered, his voice surprisingly steady considering the headache that was working on setting a new record. Trying to push the pain away he concentrated on what was happening outside of his head, pointedly flicking his gaze to the weapon held on him before looking past it to stare the other in the face. "I'll take this as an admission."

"Very funny." Morris snapped. He glanced up checking to be sure Charlie was doing as he'd been told. He addressed his next words over the desk. "If you'd just told me what I wanted to know I would have been long gone before your brother and his feds turned up. Now I have to figure something else out."

Normally Don would have been happy that Morris had tried to milk every last piece of information out of CalSci before cutting his losses and moving on once the heat was brought to bear. He was surprised that the man had stuck it out this long and had thought it would make his job easier, certainly easier to find him if he didn't even try to run. Now he was not so sure, if Morris had run they wouldn't be in this predicament.

"No you don't." Charlie argued back, stress causing his voice to rise. He cleared his throat before continuing. "You've got the gun, just leave. We can't stop you."

Morris looked back down at the agent he was keeping covered as he countered Charlie's argument. "You certainly not and maybe he can't, but the others he's got waiting will."

Without considering his actions Don shook his head. He winced before he could speak. "I'm alone."

"Really? And you expect me to fall for that, why?"

"It's the truth." The agent insisted. While he didn't want Morris to walk out of here with his gun it was far better to have the man on the loose, armed and dangerous, than it was for him take a shot at either him or far worse, his brother. "I didn't expect to find you here. I just came to give Charlie more data." To add weight to his words he shifted and started to reach for his pocket where the flashdrive was waiting, ready for Charlie's wizardry. He froze as the gun moved closer in warning.

"You try anything and I'll use this. Don't think I won't."

He had both hands up in the air in a clear sign he wasn't trying anything, the move automatic as Morris' grip on the weapon had firmed, along with his aim. The man may have been an academic but he was certainly not a stereotypical one, seemingly familiar with weapons and comfortable in their use. "I believe you."

"Good."

Don gave things a few seconds, waiting as Morris eased back slightly at his submission. As the threat eased he slowly lowered his hands, using them to very carefully prop himself up further now that he found he had the strength to do so. Aside from his headache everything else seemed to now be fully functional. Then again, maybe not. He had looked back up a little quickly and his vision took a moment to catch up, the slight blurring somewhat disconcerting as the edges of his sight pulsed in time with the headache. Recognising the signs of mild concussion he leant back against the desk and figured he needed a little longer before he could put his plan into action. Once he'd figured out what that was of course. The silence lengthened until he decided it was up to him to break it.

"So what are you going to do now?"

"Shut up. I'm thinking."

"Well don't take too long about it." Don said somewhat testily. The longer this went on for the more dangerous it would become. He had to push, keep Morris off balance and thinking about him, not the math professor.

"You know, I really don't like your cocky attitude." Morris snapped back, gun again threateningly aimed squarely at the agent's forehead.

Don bit his lip to keep silent. He'd already interviewed, or rather, informally spoken to Morris a number of times over the last month or so since the thefts of the data were discovered. As far as he'd been concerned the man had been the only clear suspect and he'd let him know that in no uncertain terms, the idea being to pressure him into doing something stupid. Which, he added ruefully to himself, he had finally managed to do. Clearly Morris had been in Charlie's office to put the hard word on him demanding to know what they knew. Even if he'd bought the story that Charlie wasn't working on the case he would have been working on the premise that the professor would be keeping tabs on any case his brother was working.

Fortunately it seemed he'd been unarmed, relying on his superior size and physique to intimidate the professor, Morris liked working out when he wasn't at CalSci, a fact they'd determined when following him. Thus the man had resorted to using one of Charlie's many heavy textbooks as a weapon to good effect when Don had blundered in. Now he was armed and felt cornered. A dangerous combination.

"Don!"

"Charlie, don't do anything." Don responded to his brother's call, desperate to keep him out of it. They couldn't see each other through the bulk of the desk but Charlie would clearly be able to see Morris and the way he was holding the weapon. The last thing he wanted was for Charlie to feel he had to step in. "Just let him think."

"Both of you, shut-up!"

Don tensed, ready in case the weapon moved from him to point at Charlie. While he didn't want that to happen it would have given him an opportunity to strike before the weapon came on target. No such luck, despite his anger Morris kept the gun on its rightful owner.

"How many are there?" He finally demanded.

"There is no-one else."

"I'm not going to ask again. Tell me the truth or I'll pull trigger and see how many come running. I've still got your brother."

"That is the truth!" Taking the risk he pulled his cell phone off his belt, flipping it open in the process. His movements fast enough that he'd finished before the weapon shifted or his head fell off. "I can call my team and ask where they are if you want."

"You really think I'm stupid, don't you?" Morris bent quickly and lashed out with his spare hand, knocking the cell phone flying.

Watching its path through the air Don was relieved when he saw it land, still open only a couple of yards away. What Morris hadn't seen was the small movement of his thumb as he'd pressed the speed dial for Control. The line was now open and help would soon be on the way once the operator heard enough to know something was seriously wrong. To that end he raised his voice as he answered the man's rhetorical question. "No, I don't. But holding a federal agent at gunpoint is not a smart move. You need to work out what you are going to do and do it."

"What I'm going to do is stick this gun in your back and then we are going to walk out of here, no muss, no fuss. You'll get us past the feds waiting for us and then drive us out of here."

Good, there was no mention of Charlie in his plan. Morris was just intending on taking him. That he could work with. "Fine. I'll get you out of here. Just leave Charlie out of it and I'll do everything you want."

Don snapped his mouth closed as he saw the speculative look that Morris flashed at Charlie. He suddenly worried that he'd said too much. Shifting he pulled his feet under him and carefully rose, steadying himself on the edge of the desk. Not totally unexpectedly the room tilted and rotated a couple of degrees before settling somewhere near where it was meant to be. But it was worth it, the move achieving what he wanted, he was once again the centre of attention with the gun and Morris' gaze fixed firmly back on him. Raising his hands he tentatively stepped back and the room cooperated, remaining in position. Don kept his eyes on the man and resisted the urge to glance over at his brother. In his peripheral vision he could make out a fuzzy Charlie, still sitting in his chair where he'd been when he first entered the room. He also saw that his brother's hands were on the arms of the chair, frozen in the motion of pushing down as he made ready to stand. Shaping his left hand into a 'wait' gesture aimed at his brother he otherwise remained focused on the offender.

"Let's do this." Don announced, taking a half step towards the door as reinforcement. "My car is parked out the front. I'll take you wherever you want to go."

Morris' eyes narrowed at the ready acquiescence of the agent. He considered a moment before flicking the gun towards the door, giving his hostage permission to move. He was getting exactly what he wanted, something he couldn't argue about.

Don immediately complied, telegraphing his moves as he headed towards the door with just a slight wobble to his step, things were slowly improving. He'd just lowered his arms and was reaching out ready to unlock the door when the indistinct outline of a person appeared through the frosted and textured glass. Don froze as the new person was brought up short, rattling at the door handle in surprise at finding it locked.

"Charlie?" Amita called. "Charlie, it's me. Why's the door locked? Charlie?"

…


	2. Chapter 2

**Numb3rs: Ex Libris **

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

_**Spoilers:**__ nil_

_**A/N:**__ Written for Clue Challenge #3, September 2009, at hurt_don on LiveJournal. Prompts: __**Who?**__ – Don. __**What? **__– Book. __**Where?**__ – Charlie's office._

**CHAPTER TWO**

For a long moment there was no sound or movement in the office aside from another rattle at the door. Now Don spared a glance at his brother's terrified face before he turned back to Morris. Another hostage they did not need. He kept his voice low. "Leave her out of this."

Morris grabbed at the agent's arm, pulling him to the side as he stuck the gun into his ribs. He gave his next hissed instruction to the professor. "Get rid of her!"

Charlie's desperate gaze flicked between his brother and the door in equal shares. Receiving an encouraging nod from Don he finally got out of his chair, moving quickly around the desk and approached the door. He made sure to give the gunman and his brother a wide berth, the threat of the weapon pressing under his brother's ribs ensured that. After a final quick glance at the two men he unlocked the door and pulled it open a bare inch, his knuckles white on the knob.

"Charlie, what?" Amita was clearly puzzled. She pressed up close to the gap, trying to see in. Fortunately the angle meant she couldn't see the drama only a few yards away and didn't know how much danger she was in.

"Uh, hi." Charlie stumbled. "Um, I can't let you in."

"Why not?"

"I've, uh, I've got some stuff you can't see."

"Since when?" Amita's confusion deepened. They almost always ended up working on the same material at some point, whether it was his own work or classified material for the government. Her clearance was nearly as good as his enabling her to help from the sidelines if not actively participate.

"Amita, I just, I can't." Charlie tried to explain, starting to sound desperate. He couldn't think clearly enough around his fear for her and his brother to make up something that sounded reasonable. "Please."

"Huh." It was more than clear that Amita was now not impressed. "Well, alright then. I'll come back later. Assuming that will be allowed then?"

Charlie didn't hear the dangerous tone, concentrating solely on the fact that whatever he'd said had been enough, she was leaving and would be safe. "Yeah, sure."

Without another word Amita backed off and vanished. Charlie eased the door closed, turning the lock without being told. Backing away he turned in time to see a sudden flurry of activity. Instinctively he scrambled out of the way as his brother struggled with Morris.

Don had finally seen an opportunity. As Charlie had sent Amita away, Morris had relaxed slightly, the gun not pressing so hard against his hostage's side. Charlie had then meekly locked the door, relaxing Morris even further. The offender had then started to move away, his attention momentarily concentrated on the professor. With the gun no longer in contact with his body Don reacted, jerking his elbow back and striking Morris hard in the ribs. He followed up with a strike to the man's gun hand which failed to knock the gun loose. Seeing that he made a grab at the wrist but Morris was already twisting away and he missed. Considering his build the offender could move surprisingly fast. Following the man Don again tried to secure the hand holding the weapon. Movement out of the corner of his eye distracted him; it was Charlie getting out of their way. The moment of inattention cost him, not seeing the fist until it struck the side of his head.

Ears ringing he stumbled, the fresh blow undoing much of his recovery so far. His stubborn streak and urgent need to continue what he'd started had him forcing himself back into the fray. Leading with a fist of his own he landed a solid punch that seemingly had no effect before his feet were suddenly swept out from under him. Already off balance and twisting he landed hard. Rolling he made it up onto all fours and started to work at getting his feet under him when a large hand gripped his shoulder holding him down. That wasn't the only thing that stopped him, the hard edge pressing against the back of his head forced the point.

"You move another inch and you're dead." Morris panted.

Breathing heavily Don remained frozen in place, not even able to look up to search for his brother as he desperately wanted. He'd made his play and failed, now everything depended on what the offender would do next. Eyes closed so he couldn't see the room spin all that was left for him to do was to relax his tensed muscles in an effort to show his surrender. The grip on his shoulder tightened briefly, a warning, before loosening. The gun didn't move. A moment later the hand was at his waist, unsnapping the pouch there and pulling out his cuffs.

Abruptly the pressure of the gun disappeared from his head. Turning his head ever so slightly and getting his eyes to work he could see that Morris remained close, slightly behind and to one side, even if it seemed he was going to let Don move. He allowed a few seconds to pass before ever so slowly easing back onto his heels and looking up, hands carefully resting in full sight on his thighs. The room tilted once again and he had to swallow against the nausea that odd movement caused. Getting his stomach under control he got his eyes back open.

His first glance went to where he'd last seen his brother, not finding him until he turned towards the desk. Charlie was frozen in place near the item of furniture, eyes impossibly wide, one hand slightly outstretched towards his brother. Don knew what he would have been thinking given what he'd just witnessed. It was a miracle he hadn't been forced to watch his older brother's murder.

Only a second or so had passed before the gun was back in place against his head. Holding still he felt Morris move and saw the restraints being tossed across the room. Charlie automatically scrambled to pick them up after failing to catch them even though Morris' aim had been true and they'd struck the professor on the chest.

Morris waited until Charlie was standing with the metal loops in his hands. "Sit down and cuff yourself to the chair."

Seeing Charlie's hesitation Don added, "Do it, Charlie." If his brother was cuffed to a chair he wasn't going to be taken anywhere.

"Don," Charlie started, clearly worried. He was edging the wrong way, towards his brother not the chair.

"Charlie, no." Don ordered at the increased pressure of the gun against his head. One of his hands came up in a 'stop' gesture. Concentrating he tried to force the headache away so he could sound convincing. "I'll be fine. Do as he says."

Clearly reluctant but without any other choices open to him Charlie slowly walked back around his desk, closing one loop of the cuffs around his left wrist before sitting. After another second or so of hesitation he finished his task, closing the other cuff around the chair arm.

There was clear satisfaction in the gunman's voice as he gave his next order. "Get up."

The gun remained pressed steadily against his head as he climbed carefully to his feet, staggering for a second or so as he worked to recover his balance. Keeping his hands up and clearly visible he waited until the man's left hand once again grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back against the other's body. The voice was harsh in his ear.

"You try anything else and I'll just shoot you. He's not going anywhere so I'll be able to come back for him. Got it?" The gun pressed harder against his head in emphasis.

"Got it." The threat against Charlie was more the more effective of the two to ensure his cooperation.

"So, we're going to try this again. Out to your car and you'll drive me where I want to go."

Unable to nod Don acknowledged the instructions. "Yes."

The hand shifted from his shoulder but he didn't move, feeling the hand take a firm hold of the back of his belt a moment later. Then the gun moved, taking up a new position against his lower back. Morris pushed with both the weapon and his hand indicating he should start walking. Allowing himself one last glance at his frightened brother Don obeyed, heading once again for the door.

This time no one appeared through the glass and he unlocked it. Placing his hand on the knob he waited until the gun was shoved harder into his back before opening the door. Looking out cautiously he saw a student walk by in the hall. Hesitating, he didn't advance until the student was gone. Finally he stepped forward, Morris keeping close in behind him. Expecting Morris to be more covert about his actions now they were in public Don was surprised when the position of the gun didn't change. As a result he kept his hands up. Then he recalled Morris being convinced that Don had agents waiting, he figured the man wanted what he was doing to be obvious the moment they were spotted.

The hall was empty but not for long, the inevitable discovery of the situation occurring sooner than he'd expected. They'd gone only a few yards before another student appeared. That suggested that they were coming up on the ten minutes of heavy traffic between classes. He would really have preferred they'd been out of the building before then. Fighting their way through students was not exactly the safest option at the moment. It wasn't until the student was within arms reach that she realised something was amiss. Her eyes widened as she dropped her books but the scream never eventuated, her hand clapping over her own mouth even as she backed against the wall.

"FBI. Call security." Don instructed as he kept moving by, the pressures against his back steady. Morris remained silent so he continued. "Make sure they keep everyone back." A few steps further on and he heard her run down the hall to safety.

"Keep doing as you're doing and no one gets hurt." Morris reinforced.

"There are about to be kids everywhere when classes let out." Don warned. "Stop this now or someone will be hurt."

Morris wasn't having it. "Keep moving."

A loud bell suddenly sounded, ringing in short bursts that continued for almost a whole minute. The noise level around them rose, voices suddenly sounding fearful. The next sounds were series of clicks as doors were locked. Don finally realised what was happening. The bell had indicated a lock-down was in force, students were now barricading themselves into their classes. Glancing automatically at his watch he realised something else, the alert was far too quick to have been the student they'd just passed, Charlie had to have called it in from his desk.

Relieved, Don allowed Morris to continue pushing him forward towards the stairs that would lead outside. With the students safely locked away from harm it just came back down to Morris and him. If he hadn't been concentrating so hard on keeping his head on his shoulders he was sure he would have been able to think of something to take advantage of the situation.

They were down the stairs and making for the doors out of the building when the sirens he just realised he'd been hearing for the last minute or so grew suddenly loud before stopping. Morris reacted, jerking the agent to a stop before slowly moving forwards to where they could just see out through the doors. There was the sound of tyres skidding across asphalt before the nose of an LAPD black & white slid into view. A second vehicle skidded to a stop followed a moment later by doors opening. A hard shove against his back and Don moved forward, out through the doors and onto the landing at the top of the stairs. The sudden appearance of the agent and the offender had the officers ducking behind their vehicles for shelter even as they aimed their weapons towards the threat. The sound of a shotgun shell being pumped into place though had Morris again pulling him to a stop. There were few sounds quite as threatening as that.

"Drop your weapon!"

Not surprisingly Morris ignored the command, pulling the agent firmly back against him as he brought the gun up and around to rest now against the side of his hostage's head. He shouted his own command as more sirens could be heard approaching. "Back off!"

"Drop your weapon and release the hostage." The LAPD officer with the shotgun repeated.

"Tell them." Morris hissed.

"It won't make any difference coming from me." Don argued.

"Your job is to get me past them." Morris reminded him.

Thinking of his brother trapped back in the office behind them Don kept to his word. "Officer, he's serious. Let us by."

"No can do, Agent." She responded. Her shotgun didn't move as she addressed the man behind the agent. "Surrender now before this gets any worse."

Two more black & whites arrived. As the new officers climbed out to join the first responders pointing weapons their way Don felt Morris shift in sudden nervousness. Being on the wrong end of his gun Don swallowed, all too aware of how much danger he was in, a nervous finger on a trigger was enough to give anyone pause. A black sedan finally joined the party, doors opening to reveal David and Colby. The two agents threaded their way through the vehicles until they were standing next to the officer with the shotgun.

"Give this up, Morris." David called.

The gun shoved against his head. "They aren't going to listen to me either."

"Make them."

Remembering the nervous finger on the trigger Don gave in. "David, you have to let us by."

Following procedure and ignoring his boss' words as they were made under duress David spoke again. "Release Agent Eppes and drop the weapon."

"I'll kill him!" Morris warned. He directed his next words at his hostage. "Tell them."

"David, he means it." Don added obediently as he saw no point to arguing further. He knew David wouldn't capitulate unless he said the specific words they'd long ago agreed to. Until then David would stick to the rules and the rules said the HT was not to go mobile, especially not with a hostage in tow if there was any way to prevent it.

Morris took a half step sideways, moving in the general direction of Don's SUV dragging the agent with him. The weapons aimed at them jerked up and followed their move causing Morris to stop once again at the threat. Despite his tough-guy attitude the man was obviously fearful of the weapons arrayed against him, even though he held a trump card.

Seeing the target of Morris' move David spoke quickly to the officer beside him. The woman reacted, radioing a brief message via the handset clipped to her epaulette. As they watched an officer jumped back into his black & white and drove forwards until he stopped parked across the front of Don's SUV blocking it in. The officer quickly climbed out and abandoned his unit, joining one of his colleagues behind another vehicle.

"Move it!" Morris demanded, anger and frustration clear in his voice. "Move it or I kill him!"

"No, you won't." David responded calmly. "Morris, look around you. This is not going to work. Put the gun down and let Agent Eppes go."

…


	3. Chapter 3

**Numb3rs: Ex Libris **

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

_**Spoilers:**__ nil_

_**A/N:**__ Written for Clue Challenge #3, September 2009, at hurt_don on LiveJournal. Prompts: __**Who?**__ – Don. __**What? **__– Book. __**Where?**__ – Charlie's office._

**CHAPTER THREE**

With Morris' exit plan stymied Don worried at what might happen next. The gun continued to press firmly against the side of his head as Morris shifted, turning slightly as he surveyed the officers and agents facing him. The SUV was blocked in and thus removed from the equation. David was holding firm and showing no sign of allowing the offender to leave, regardless of the clear threat to the senior agent.

"Give it up, Morris." Don added his own encouragement.

"Shut up." The offender growled into his ear.

"This isn't getting you anywhere." The agent continued. "You are caught."

"Not yet, I'm not." Morris announced after a long moment. "Move."

Pulled backwards by his belt Don was forced to follow, dragged back through the doors and into the building. Morris twisted quickly, kicking the door closed before turning Don around and shoving him back towards the stairs. They were returning to Charlie's office.

Don baulked, grabbing hold of the handrail with one hand as he planted his feet against the steps. The gun shifted and he understood why an instant later as it smashed down onto the junction of his right shoulder and neck. Driven downwards and half stunned it took a moment before he registered the barrel of his gun being ground hard against the back of his neck.

"Get up. I'm not going to give you another chance."

It was all he could do to get his feet under him and keep them there as he was dragged upwards by his collar. They were at the top of the stairs and well on their way back to his brother's office before he could form much in the way of detailed thoughts. The first thing he noticed was his brother struggling with the bolts on the other half of the double door to his office, trying to get it open, the doorway otherwise too narrow to enable him to drag the heavy chair he was chained to through with him. Don remembered Charlie complaining about the stiff bolts and wasn't surprised that despite his suggestion to oil them his brother hadn't gotten around to it.

"Charlie, get back!" Don called out urgently as they approached. "Lock the door!"

"Don't you dare!" Morris countermanded, shoving the agent forward hard enough to force him to stumble and fall virtually at Charlie's feet.

With a groan Don rolled and looked up to see his gun aimed at his brother who looked like nothing so much as a startled rabbit caught in a car's headlights, eyes wide at the sudden turn of events. Somehow he got himself up and planted in front of the gun. "No!"

"Inside, now."

With no choice Don took a step back before turning and following his brother across the office. The door was slammed shut and locked behind them.

"Get back where you belong." The orders continued, the first one aimed at Charlie, the next at the agent. "And you, get down."

Don couldn't hide the sigh of relief as he lowered himself to the floor. It was a miracle that his head hadn't fallen off and his stomach was threatening to add to his discomfort, clenching and very close to rejecting his lunch. He now had a sore shoulder and stiff neck to add to his collection. The sigh turned to another groan as he eased back until he was lying down. He just needed a moment.

"Don?" Charlie's worried voice called.

"I'm okay, Charlie. Do as he says."

"But-"

"No, Charlie. I'm good. I just need a moment." Even as he said it he knew he couldn't take the moment, he had to get himself upright otherwise Charlie would risk the ire of the offender even more than he had already.

Getting his hands under him and remembering not to make any sudden movement that would either make his head part company with his shoulders or get himself shot he levered himself up far enough to lean back against the end of Charlie's desk. He'd been here before and that thought was enough to ring a small bell in the back of his mind. There was something that he could use. Movement distracted him from his thoughts and he watched as his brother finally shifted, dragging the heavy chair back around the desk and out of his sight, the castors little assistance on the carpet.

The sense of deja-vu was strong as he looked back up at the offender. "So what are you going to do now?"

"I'm thinking. Where's your cell?"

Don pointed to the device which was still where it had landed what felt like forever ago. Using the distraction the agent shifted slighting bringing him within reach of his own target. Reaching out as quickly as he could he pulled it towards him, tucking it away out of sight behind his body. He was just in time as Morris spun suddenly towards him.

"It's on." He accused as he snapped the phone closed. "You called them."

"I told you they weren't here. You could have just walked out." He couldn't resist the dig. It also served to remind Morris that he'd told the truth and this deeper mess was all his own fault. Not that any of that really helped either Charlie or himself all that much. Thankfully, given their position, Morris ignored it.

"That was Sinclair, right?"

No surprise there, Morris had met David a couple of times during the course of the investigation. He also understood what Morris wanted. "Yeah. His number's in there."

Morris scrolled down the menus until he found the listing he wanted. "You should have let me go, I've got both him and his brother up here. … No, you're not talking to anyone. You know what I want. … Yeah? How about when I'm done with them I kick a door down and start in on a classroom? … Hunh, thought you'd listen to that. Call me."

He knew that Morris expected David to be making arrangements to move the circus below, clearing a path that would allow the offender to leave. That wasn't what was happening, David would instead be marshalling their forces and working on several plans, one to ensure Morris didn't go mobile, another to clear the building and the last to get the hostages out safely.

The first plan was already in play. The second though would take time, the evacuation of the building delayed by the need to know exactly where the HT and his hostages were barricaded before they could make a move. David could guess, but Morris hadn't exactly said they were in Charlie's office, hampering their efforts until they were sure. Until then Morris' threat was a good one, the lockdown serving to hold potential hostages in place. In the wake of school shootings Don knew the procedures behind lockdowns but not what security arrangements had been made to strengthen doors and locks to protect students. He had no idea how easy or difficult it would be for Morris to kick in a door. He had to do something before it came to that. His hand closed around the item behind him.

"Give me the phone. Let me talk to Sinclair." Don demanded, trying to push away his physical discomfort so that he could concentrate.

"He wouldn't listen to you before."

"That was before you upped the ante. He will now. But you just take me, not my brother or anyone else."

"You don't get to say what I do."

Don pulled back the hand he'd been holding out for his phone. Despite having no intention of carrying out his offer unless he failed, assuming he survived that failure, he had to make it look good. "That's the deal. Take it or leave it. I can make him give you what you want."

"Do it." Morris decided abruptly, tossing the cell at the agent.

Don snatched for it but his coordination was far enough off that he missed, batting the phone to one side instead of catching it. The gunman reacted automatically turning to pick the phone up and by accident created the opening the agent needed. Don knew he wouldn't get a better chance, Morris was off balance, turned slightly away as he bent over reaching for the phone. Wasting no more time on thought he pushed himself up and in the same motion swung his right hand and the object it held.

The book connected solidly with the back of Morris' head. The offender staggered and went to one knee before starting to bring the gun up. Don struck again, succeeding this time to floor Morris. He nearly followed him down though, staggering as he almost lost his balance but through sheer force of will managed to remain upright. His recovery was just in time to swing again in order to counter the other man's attempt to get up. With a groan Morris fell back, his hand opening and allowing Don's Glock to tumble free. Dropping the book Don took up his weapon and his phone before backing away to give himself a bit of reaction time in case Morris made a move.

"Don!"

"Charlie stay put." He ordered tersely as he flipped the cell open and hit the speed dial. "David, it's me. Charlie's office. I've got him."

Critically assessing Morris Don decided he had the time to move away long enough to flip the lock and pull open Charlie's door before returning to keep the man covered. Digging into his pocket he pulled out his keys and tossed them at his brother. His aim was off, the keys skittering across the desk before landing on the floor but Charlie was able to pick them up. The agent kept his attention on his prisoner as Charlie found the key to the cuffs and released himself. He turned briefly in time to see his brother approaching cuffs in hand and understood what he intended.

"No, Charlie. Stay back." Until David and Colby reached them he wasn't going to allow Charlie to get anywhere near Morris, not even to cuff him. Despite all appearances he wasn't entirely sure that the man wasn't playing possum, waiting for a chance to regain control.

David and Colby rushing into the room guns drawn followed by some LAPD uniforms didn't come too soon for Don. He stepped back as his agents secured Morris and made sure he wasn't carrying any other weapons. Holstering his Glock he bent to pick up the book just as David pulled a now conscious Morris to his feet.

"Take him to booking." Don ordered. They had more than enough evidence for assault and deprivation of liberty if nothing else. They would lay the other charges later.

Charlie rushed over, finally able to get near his brother. He looked him over in concern before finding his attention drawn to the volume in his brother's hands. The abrupt end to the stressful situation had his mind running off on an odd tangent tinged with mild hysteria. "I think you've already booked him."

"Oh, ha-ha." Don retorted sarcastically as David led, or more precisely helped, the groggy man away. "Just like he 'booked' me, right?"

"Well, not quite. He threw it, whereas you held onto it."

"Uh-huh." The book was suddenly heavier than it looked and he dropped it onto the desk top. The cover flipped open as it had landed half across another book and he saw the bookplate. He took a small double-take at the inscription, _Ex libris Fleinhardt_, wondering what Larry would think of how his book had been used. He sighed and suddenly the strength born of the rush of adrenalin that had carried him through the last few minutes abandoned him.

"Don?" Charlie's voice rose with worry as his older brother suddenly staggered and leant his weight against the desk. He'd seemingly recovered enough to take out Morris but it looked like everything was catching up with him again.

"Don?" The second voice was Colby, rushing in to support his boss reaching him first as he didn't have the bulk of the desk to get around. "What's wrong with him?"

"He got hit in the head a few times." Charlie supplied.

Colby eased Don back onto the couch a few steps away before turning to one of the officers. "Hey, we need some EMTs here."

"Sure thing."

"Colby, I'm fine." Don managed, sitting had definitely helped after the exertion of the last few minutes. "It's just a mild concussion." He found himself hoping that the blows he'd delivered to Morris had put the man into the same condition as he now found himself.

"How about we let the EMTs decide that?"

Waving his hand Don didn't bother arguing. He knew it would be easier that way, besides he really didn't have the energy right at the moment. The EMTs would do their thing and he could go home and rest. Some industrial strength Tylenol would help and he could almost see the box he kept for just such an occasion sitting in his medicine cupboard in his bathroom. The sooner he was home the better. If he played his cards right he'd be able to avoid the trip to hospital, he'd been there far too often lately.

An hour later and he was easing himself back on his bed, blinds drawn to make the room comfortably dark. He could hear Charlie moving about in the living room but he could accept that, being as it was a condition of his being allowed to go home. Charlie had taken pity and after a token argument had agreed that his brother's own bed was far better than the couch he usually ended up on back at the house. A sigh and he felt himself relaxing.

It had been uncomfortably close but somehow he'd managed to survive another gun being pointed at his head. At least Charlie had given up on calculating those odds, happy to accept that Don was able to keep beating them. That Charlie was also a member of that club, having himself been shot at and guns pointed at him, now made that a little easier even if Don was not happy he'd had experienced any of that. His younger brother was getting drawn ever closer to the more violent aspects of his job, this last exposure one of the closest.

Another sigh and he willed the Tylenol to ease away the pounding in his head, it hurt too much to have such deep thoughts. He would work on that tomorrow.

END

_**A/N:**__ Not so sure that this fic works all that well. I found the challenge to be, well, _a challenge_. Once again, I'd like to thank everyone for reading and reviewing. See you all tomorrow with a new fic.  
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